


Graffiti

by Cheetolord



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 07:03:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16697680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheetolord/pseuds/Cheetolord
Summary: She falls in love with graffiti on her lips.





	Graffiti

She loves it. She loves the thrill of it. The feeling of a cool night’s breeze brushing against her face, the hood of her grey hoodie pulled up over her head, the feeling of the nozzle of the can in her hand as she sprays her “canvas” with color. The warm glow of the streetlight is the only source of light to shine down on her work of perfection as she adds the last finishing touches to the wall. Doing things like this gives her a sense of euphoria, a sense of peace that she’s always craved. It’s perfect.

 

“It’s really pretty.”

 

Jungeun’s eyes widen as she spins around. She’s not alarmed, really. She can’t be the only one out in the streets of Seoul after all. It’s dark, and whoever it is is just out of reach of the poor light source. It definitely is a girl, though. The femininity of it is obvious. She narrows her eyes, managing to make out a slight figure in the gloom. “Thanks,” she says, chucking the empty can of spray paint behind her, the sound of clanking metal resounding in the narrow alleyway.

 

“Littering isn’t good.” The girl’s voice isn’t reprimanding, sounding more like advice than anything else.

 

Jungeun shrugs, tilting her head as she puts her hands in the pockets of her ripped jeans. “Like I care.” Jungeun’s interest perks up when the figure in the darkness moves, and steps towards the circle of light. Another few steps, and Jungeun’s brows lift as she takes in the sight of the girl in front of her from head to toe. 

 

The girl’s in a white button up with a navy blue ribbon at the collar, a skirt showing off long, milky legs, blazer hugging her lithe figure in all the right places. What really catches Jungeun’s eyes, though, is the girl’s face. Long, wavy hair that looks like spun gold under the glow of the lamp light frames the girl’s face. Eyes that oddly remind her of a cat’s show mild curiosity and a certain air of gentleness. A button-like nose and full lips complete the image of a very,  _ very _ pretty girl.

 

The girl walks towards her, and Jungeun warily steps back a pace, only for the girl to walk past her and into the darkness again. The girl returns a few seconds later, however, with the discarded can of spray paint in one hand. “Here,” the girl says, stopping in front of Jungeun and holding out the can.

 

Jungeun realizes that the girl’s taller than her—not that she’s ever been on the tall side—but it irks her anyway on how she has to tilt her head back to meet the girl’s eyes. Normally, she would’ve lashed out, teaching the girl a lesson about telling her what to do, but the girl’s face, so innocent, pure, and gentle, forces Jungeun to reach out and take the can. With a disgruntled mutter, she turns to toss the empty can into her black duffle bag. “Happy?”

 

The girl hums. “You’re a good artist, by the way. I wish I could draw like you,” she says, stepping towards Jungeun’s evidence of vandalism and tracing the now dry paint with delicate fingertips.

 

“Yeah, sure.” Jungeun’s not sure why the girl’s here, talking to her like she’s an old friend. The girl’s somewhat interesting, though, so she backs up to the other side of the alleyway and leans against it, watching the girl with mild curiosity.

 

“My name’s Jinsoul. Jung Jinsoul.”

 

Jungeun bites her lip, debating on whether or not to disclose such information to someone she’d met just moments before. She grimaces when she realizes how much of a sissy she’s being. “Jungeun,” she replies.

 

“That’s a nice name. You know, with your skills, you could probably be a really good artist,” Jinsoul says, unexpectedly turning around and looking straight at Jungeun.

 

“Yeah, well, I’m not interested.” They’re lies, but the girl in front of her doesn’t need to know that.

 

“Why do you do that, then? You know, graffiti? There’s legal ways to show your artwork, you know.” Again, words that would’ve earned anyone else a broken nose and a black eye. Jinsoul has a strange way of making harsh words soft as cotton, and Jungeun can’t find it in her to get angry.

 

“I like it. Vandalism. Doing something illegal. It gives you a thrill.” 

 

“Doing something wrong to create something beautiful. It seems like a fair trade.” Then, “It’s dangerous to be out here this late, isn’t it? Especially for someone as pretty as you,” Jinsoul says, giving Jungeun a bright smile that seems to outshine the dim streetlight.

 

Jungeun freezes for a second before regaining her senses. She would have mistaken the girl’s words for flirtation, but her bright, innocent smile throws any suspicions away. Clearing her throat uncomfortably, she pushes off of the cold wall and quickly makes her way over to her duffle bag, swiftly zipping it up and slinging it over one shoulder. Awkwardly, she stands in the middle of the alleyway, shifting from one foot to the other and fixing the hood of her jacket before jerking her chin towards the girl. “Same to you. See you around, I guess.”

 

Jinsoul’s lips stay curled into a smile as she tilts her head. “Be safe. It was nice meeting you.”

 

With a final nod, and a lingering gaze, Jungeun turns and leaves the alleyway. 

 

_ “Jinsoul. Jung Jinsoul.” _

 

***

 

Jungeun pulls her knees closer to her chest, resting her chin on top of her crossed arms. Kicked out again. Not like she cares, though. At this point, it’s an everyday thing, and Jungeun would much rather be outside than in that hell hole she has to call home. She’d call Sooyoung, but she’d rather not. She’s probably making out with her girlfriend right now anyway. And it’s not like the area she’s in is that bad.

 

“Jungeun?”

 

Confused, Jungeun looks up, and disbelievingly recognizes the person in front of her. “Jung Jinsoul.”

 

The girl smiles at her, and Jungeun’s alarmed to feel an odd fluttering in her chest. 

“Nice to see you again.”

 

“Yeah,” she responds lamely.

 

She hears a cute giggle from Jinsoul, and she can’t help the blush that rises into her cheeks, quickly hiding it by looking away from thee girl and pretending to be interested by the bypassing cars instead. She hears a rustle beside her, and she feels the presence of warmth against her bare arm. She doesn’t need to look to know that Jinsoul’s sitting beside her. 

 

“You don’t talk much,” Jinsoul states.

 

Jungeun chances a glance at Jinsoul to see her wearing a red jacket and skinny jeans this time. Her hair’s straight instead of wavy, and she realizes that it’s even prettier in the sun. Jinsoul looks even prettier in daylight, and Jungeun can’t help but let her eyes roam the girl’s features. She only snaps out of it when Jinsoul’s eyes shift to meet her’s. Jungeun looks away again. 

 

“Listening’s easier than talking,” she murmurs simply. It’s true. Jungeun’s always enjoyed the art of hearing someone else’s words rather than her saying them herself. And anyway, there isn’t much use for words when she can just use her fists to solve things. 

 

“I guess you’re right. Good thing I like talking, right?”

 

Jungeun’s confused. More than that - she’s completely bewildered. She can’t understand why she’s talking to this girl; why this girl’s talking to her. It doesn’t make sense, but Jungeun can’t help but feel a strange feeling of attraction to Jinsoul. “Why are you here?”

 

“I was bored,” she says, shrugging. 

 

Jungeun hums and rests her chin back on top of her knees. They fall into calming silence, and she finds that the presence of the girl beside her surprisingly gives her comfort. She flinches when she feels cool, gentle fingers brushing against her arm.

 

Brows furrowed, Jungeun looks up at Jinsoul to see her looking down at her bruised arm with concern. “You’re hurt. Are you okay?” 

 

Her words are automatic. “It’s nothing.” It was a bruise her  _ father _ had gifted her the night before during one of his drunken rampages with her mother. She berates herself for wearing a sleeveless shirt. Jinsoul continues to softly trace the purple bruise that colors her skin, and Jungeun can’t help the shivers that run through her body. Swallowing uncomfortably, she shifts away from the other girl. She’s not used to tender touches and caring words, and she can’t help but feel vulnerable.

 

“Do you want to listen?”

 

Confused, Jungeun looks at the other girl to see her holding up one earbud towards her, offering it to her. Jungeun likes music, and though hesitant, she takes the offer. She moves a little closer to Jinsoul before putting the earphone into her ear.

 

Jinsoul has good taste in music, and Jungeun finds her body relaxing as she leans back onto the wall behind her, closing her eyes. After awhile, she becomes aware of the feeling of someone looking at her, and she slowly opens her eyes to see Jinsoul watching her with an indiscernible look in her eyes. 

 

“You’re really pretty,” Jinsoul says. This time, it seems like a statement, and Jungeun finds herself getting lost in pools of soft, amber brown. She can’t understand it, this feeling in her body, the tingling in her limbs, the twist in her stomach, the dreaded flutter of wings in her chest. Jungeun’s known the fact that she’s attracted to girls a long time ago, but she’d never really felt anything towards anyone—nothing like this, anyway.

 

“You’re one to talk,” she finally manages to say before ripping her gaze away from Jinsoul with effort.

 

Jinsoul giggles. “Thank you.” 

 

Jungeun nods before looking up at the sky. It’s getting dark. “Shouldn’t you go home?” she asks.

 

“Mm, I guess you’re right.” Jungeun hears the rustling of Jinsoul’s clothes as she gets up, brushing away any dirt that might have been on her pants. “Aren’t you leaving?”

 

“Maybe later,” she says, before giving Jinsoul a final nod of goodbye and returning her attention to the cars. 

 

“Be safe.”

 

“Okay.”

 

***

 

After that, Jungeun meets Jinsoul a few more times, mostly on her expeditions of vandalism in the form of art. And every single time she sees the girl, she’s horrified to realize that her feelings are getting nothing but stronger. 

 

Then, the day comes when she can’t take it anymore, the constant screaming, the fighting, the unnecessary pain she’s forced to deal with every day—she just can’t do it. She runs, and ends up finding herself in the same alleyway that she’d first met Jinsoul at. With staggering steps, she throws down her duffle bag before practically ripping it open and taking out cans of beer she’d snatched from her parents. She opens one before guzzling it down, feeling that blissfully foggy sense of alcohol taking over her brain. She grabs another and does the same.

 

“Jungeun?”

 

She squints her eyes, vision beginning to fail on her. “Go away,” she slurs, looking up with unfocused eyes at Jinsoul.

 

“What’s wrong? Why are you drinking?”

 

“Because I want to,” she growls. She hates the vulnerability she feels under Jinsoul’s soft gaze and she looks away, opting to drain her can of beer before chucking it down the alley. Jungeun knows she looks broken— _ is  _ broken. The wall of indifference she had thought would always support her had crumbled, and she doesn’t know what to do anymore. She hears the sound of rustling clothes, and she unexpectedly feels the warmth of a jacket around her—she didn’t even realize that she was cold until now—and she looks up at Jinsoul.

 

Jinsoul’s only wearing a t-shirt, but the older girl only gives her a smile before walking over to the wall beside her and sliding down into a sitting position, knees pulled to her chest and her arms wrapping around them. Jinsoul looks up at her then, inclining her head slightly and patting the space beside her. Jungeun finds herself complying.

 

“I can just keep you company, or you can tell me what’s wrong. I’m good with either one,” Jinsoul says, looking over at her.

 

Jungeun’s confused. She doesn’t understand why Jinsoul’s here, why Jinsoul’s sticking around when she’s so obviously at her lowest point. Shouldn’t she be abandoning her like all the rest? Jungeun can feel the alcohol getting to her head, and she leans back against the sturdy wall behind her and closes her eyes. 

 

She lets her emotions take over. “It’s hard. Everything’s hard. They’re always fighting, screaming, yelling. I hate noises like that. I hate loud noises, but they keep doing it anyway.” Jungeun clenches her hands into fists, feeling her nails scrape against the dirty alleyway floor. “I’d rather they just hit me if that would stop it all. I’d rather they take it all out on me.” 

 

Jungeun suddenly feels the press of another body against her side, soft in the way a head leans against her shoulder and a thumb rubs gently against her knuckles. She stiffens, unaccustomed to such tender advances, but she slowly finds herself relaxing. It’s nice. Jinsoul’s nice.

 

“Is that why you draw?”

 

Jungeun’s brows furrow before she looks up and sees the graffiti she’d painted weeks before—the graffiti that brought Jinsoul to her. She nods. “It makes me feel free.”

 

Jinsoul suddenly stands up, though her hand clutches onto hers, and Jungeun looks up at Jinsoul in bewilderment. The girl’s smiling, an unfamiliar spark in her eyes. “Then let’s do it. Let’s draw.”

 

***

 

Jungeun’s watching Jinsoul, the girl’s spraying color across the blank canvass of the rooftop wall, and she’s surprisingly good at it. It feels like a dream. The dark night sky spread above them like a blanket, the moon shining down on them, and a can of blue spray paint in her hand. She knows what she’s going to paint. 

 

The rooftop belongs to an abandoned building, so Jungeun thinks that it’ll be alright. She pops off the cap of the can before shaking it vigorously and beginning her work. She looks over at Jinsoul who’s concentrating on her art—it looks like a fish of sorts, but Jungeun can’t be too sure—and finds herself smiling. Twenty minutes later, and Jungeun’s done.

 

“Jungeun! Come and look!”

 

Jungeun walks over to the girl who’s smiling brightly at her before looking at the wall in front of her. “Is that . . . an owl and a fish?”

 

“Yeah! Aren’t they cute?”

 

“You’re good at art,” Jungeun says, impressed with the details in the girl’s work.

 

“Let me see yours now!” 

 

Before Jungeun can say anything, Jinsoul’s already running over to her side of the wall. Jungeun follows more slowly, cautiously. She gauges the older girl’s expression. She finally reaches her and stands beside Jinsoul, clearing her throat. “What do you think?”

 

Jinsoul’s silent for a few moments, eyes not leaving the artwork. “Is that . . . is that me?” She finally turns to look at Jungeun.

 

Jungeun slowly nods, biting her lip. She’d painted Jinsoul against the drab canvass of a dingy wall, captured her smile under the silver moonlight, her crescent moon eyes and wide smile. She takes a deep breath, avoiding the older girl’s eyes. “Thank you for helping me. Thank you for . . . being there for me when I needed it the most. Thank you for not abandoning me.” Jungeun shifts uncomfortably when Jinsoul doesn’t say anything.

 

Jungeun’s eyes widen when she feels a sudden grip against the collar of her shirt, pulling her until she’s slamming against a soft body and her lips are pressing into another’s.  A picture's being painted across her lips with endless colors.  She receives her first kiss on the top of an abandoned rooftop in front of a portrait of the girl she found herself falling for. Jinsoul pulls away, and Jungeun stares at her with wide eyes, slightly breathless. Jinsoul smiles, eyes saying words that doesn’t leave her mouth, but Jungeun understands all the same.

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

She falls in love with graffiti on her lips.


End file.
